


first loves

by johnnyfucksup



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, M/M, Making Out, Meant To Be, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 12:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16305503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnyfucksup/pseuds/johnnyfucksup
Summary: Joey Tribbiani had never been in love before. Then Chandler Bing happened.





	first loves

**Author's Note:**

> here i go again  
> i know my stories escalate quickly, are perhaps even out of character, but i wanna let them dorks be together  
> thanks to the support i got on my first fanfiction on here, gonna write some more shit, be prepared

Joey Tribbiani had never been in love in his life. 

He was experienced when it came to kissing, to fondling, to sex. He knew everything what was to be known about physical contact. He knew what to do to make a girl feel good, to make her scream, even.   
He knew how to be charismatic – even though he didn’t actually know what _charismatic_ meant but he knew it was something positive –, to show his charm. He actually knew quite a lot more than just _Hey, how you doin’?_ , but most of the girls didn’t even expect more than that.

Joey has always been quite an attention-getter and an eye-catcher, had been called handsome and sexy on more than one occasion, had been complimented by more than a few people. He knew how he could affect people, especially women. Some guys, also. 

It had never bothered him that he wasn’t more than a short casual affair for all the people he shared his bed with. He was pretty okay with it. It fit his life style. He rather enjoyed this meaninglessness, this informality and this ease.

But he had never been in love before. 

Sure, there had been some girls that he liked more than others. Some of them weren’t just one-night stands, some of them were interesting and nice and funny. But none of the people he had been with were enough for him to fall in love. 

And it had never bothered him. 

But then Chandler Bing happened. 

Chandler Bing, with this hilarious name, this strange humour he didn’t always get, this crooked smile and puppy-like eyes. 

This guy who took him in when he had nowhere to go and treated him like family since their first day together. This guy who became his best friend, his family, his everything. 

Joey didn’t exactly know _when_ Chandler Bing happened. 

Maybe it was when Chandler took him in and accepted him as a roommate and talked him through the first night because he was an emotional wreck and missed his family in Italy. Chandler stayed the whole night with him on the couch, drank beer with him, talked, listened.   
Maybe it was when Chandler broke down for the first time in front of him, crying and yelling and cursing, and being so real and honest like Joey had never seen before.   
Maybe it was every single time when Chandler brought him his favourite sandwich, ordered his favourite food, bought him beer or called him, just so he wouldn’t miss Baywatch.  
Maybe it was when he realized how Chandler Bing always cared about his friends and made them laugh and just loved them unconditionally. 

Maybe Chandler Bing just kind of happened, and Joey Tribbiani just kind of came apart at the seams. 

He had never been in love. And then Chandler Bing happened and he realized that he didn’t _want_ to be in love. 

Because shit was _hard_. 

It was hard for him to have those feelings, they were new and strange and so utterly ridiculous. And he just didn’t know what to _do_ with them, he couldn’t handle them and it made him feel helpless and angry and sad. And he hated to feel helpless and angry and sad. So he tried to ignore them, to repress them, to eat them away, to drown them in alcohol, to displace them with meaningless one-night stands and countless girls he didn’t even know the names of. 

And nothing worked out. 

(Yeah, he also tried working out in order to forget those strange feelings, but funnily enough working out hadn’t worked out. Ha ha.)

So, Joey was in love for the first time in his life. 

It was overwhelming and confusing, he didn’t know whether he was gay or straight or bi, he didn’t know what to do or what to think or what to hope. Joey wasn’t one to know much but now he felt even more stupid than usual. Stupid and foolish and pathetic. 

Because he was. 

At every occasion he stared at his best friend, roaming him with his eyes, observing every move and every gesture, analysing every word and sound Chandler made, followed him like a stray cat, touched him more cautiously but way more often than usual. He didn’t go out anymore, didn’t go to parties or on dates, ignored all the girls who tried their luck on him, didn’t stay nights out. He preferred to stay in, with Chandler, with his roommate, his best friend, watching stupid movies and tv shows and eating unhealthy food. He would’ve chosen a boring night with Chandler over every party-night.

Oh, he was so unbelievable pathetic and so, so in love.

xx

“Do you remember the first time falling in love?”

Joey almost choked on his chocolate bar. 

They were sitting as usual in Monika and Rachel’s apartment in a circle around the couch, sipping their champagne, feeling classy as hell, even though it was just the rest of someone’s birthday party. It was one of these evenings where everything could happen, but at the end nothing will happen. They were sitting in the exact same position for hours, drinking and wasting themselves and talking about everything and nothing.

It was light, it was superficial, it was good. 

It was safe. 

And then his super best friend Rachel Green had to have one of her infamous nostalgic moments. Of course, she shared her thoughts and her memories with the group and just _had_ to know about other stories. _It would be boring otherwise, right?_

Unfortunately, everyone was at a drunken level where every idea seemed like the best idea in the whole wide world, and so the stories began. 

Monika told them about Richard, who was her first big love, matured and deep. Rachel and Ross surprisingly didn’t mention each other – and Joey loved them for it, he couldn’t bear another heartbreaking conversation, he dealt with his own heartbreak, _okay, thank you very much_ – Phoebe explained that she had had a thousand true loves, because why not, there were so many people in the world to just have one true love. 

Only Chandler was silent. Strangely silent, like, he never was completely quiet. His sarcasm didn’t let him. But now he was, and Joey found that quite interesting. Discomforting, but interesting. 

He decided on observing, not saying anything, not asking, not trying to squeeze something out of his best friend that would hurt him. No thanks. 

“Chandler? Nothing gonna add on this subject?” Rachel hummed, seemingly innocent. 

“I dunno. I mean, I don’t think I ever fell in love,” he shrugged, took a sip out of his glass and Joey choked again on his chocolate. 

Two near death experiences in ten minutes, Joey was sure that he wouldn’t survive this evening.

He stared up at his best friend who sat on the couch, he himself sat on the floor, letting his chocolate sink. Could it be that Chandler Bing, bestest of all best friends, hadn’t fallen in love once in his life?

Probably not. Only Joey would be that crippled with feelings.

…but he needed to know. 

“Do you _think_ or do you _know_ that you’ve never fallen in love?” he asked shy, glancing at his friend who seemed to think a bit over his answer.

“I guess I _did_ fall in love a few times in my life, but I never really _was_ in love, y’know? Or at least I think so,” Chandler didn’t seem that interested in this subject, didn’t seem to enjoy talking in the middle of the group about such intimate things. 

And Joey began to feel a certain hope fluttering in his chest. But he also felt this confusion and this frustration. Because he did not yet know exactly what he felt, what he should feel, what was right or wrong, what others might feel in his situation. 

“That’s kind of sad Chan,” huffed Monika, rubbed Chandler’s leg, looking sympathising. “Joey, what about you? Anything to add?”

“Yeah, actually”, he scowled, staring up at Chandler who looked in another direction, still sipping at his drink, unconscious of his gaze, “I once fell in love. Once. I guess. I fell slowly, but I fell hard. And it hurt, it fucking hurt so much when I hit the ground. But I never enjoyed pain more than… then.”

Now everyone was looking at him, even Chandler seemed to understand the deep meaning behind his words. He had never talked much about his feelings, about his experiences with love. They knew about his whoring around, about his bed bunnies, but they didn’t know that he actually could have feelings. Of course, he himself never expected to have feelings.

The girls had this special look on their faces, half worried, half interested. They looked at him like they wanted him to go on but they didn’t want to urge him, wanted him to have his time. So they waited with this expectant look on their faces. Even Ross and Chandler looked at him more attentive.

But he only looked at his best friend. At his favourite person who didn’t _know_ , didn’t know about anything, didn’t even suspect anything. 

This would be the only and the last chance to tell Chandler what he felt. The only chance to ever let out what he was thinking and feeling. He could share it with everyone, could break down, and no one would know who he was talking about. 

And so broke Joey down. 

“It was brutal. How I loved this person as a friend, as the only real friend I had at that time, the only one I could trust. The one who saved me when I was lost. I adored this person. It was a hard time… then. And then it wasn’t anymore. Because I wasn’t alone anymore. And slowly, so fucking slowly I didn’t even notice it myself, I fell for this person. And I kinda never stopped falling. I always hit the ground when I saw him with someone other,” shitdidhesayhimdidhereallysayhim, “but I never stopped falling. And I never was afraid of falling. ‘Cause I knew it would be alright, even if I hit the ground. I never was afraid. I guess you could say it’s love. Maybe not. But I know I never loved and hurt more.”

He still stared at Chandler. Chandler stared back. 

He was breathing hard, not looking at anybody. His throat hurt, his eyes burnt, his head ached. 

He stood up. Downed his glass, placed it on the table, turned around, and ran. 

He didn’t know where he ran, didn’t know if he wanted to run or to hide, or both, so he just ran out of the apartment, ignoring the cries after him, just kept on. 

In the end he couldn’t really run far. He managed to reach his apartment, his bedroom, shut the door behind him. Locked it. Leaned against it. Banged his head against it. Over and over and over again. 

He could hear the dull slam of the apartment door, light footsteps, a halt. He could practically feel how Chandler walked through the room, confident and determined, but also hesitant and not daring to knock on his door. 

Joey loved him for it. 

Joey loved him. For this consideration, for this care, for following him into their apartment, for standing in front of his closed and locked door, for calculating the risk of knocking or not. 

Joey loved him. 

And Chandler knew it. Now he knew it. 

Joey wasn’t ready. He couldn’t open the door and face his biggest fear and his greatest love. He couldn’t bring himself to brush it aside with a grin and trying to convince Chandler, convince all of his friends, that it all had been a show. Something he had acted, something for an audition. 

He couldn’t hide anymore. He wasn’t strong enough. Wasn’t brave enough.

So he opened the door. 

Chandler stood so close at the door, he must’ve had his forehead pressed against the wooden door. Thus, he looked wide-eyed at Joey, surprised and relieved, with so much emotion on his face that Joey choked a third time. 

“Did you mean it?” it wasn’t even a question. It didn’t sound like a question. It didn’t sound unsure, it sounded like Chandler was trying to convince himself that Joey did mean what he had said. It sounded hurt and vulnerable. As if he thought that it had been some sick joke from Joey, a fooling around, an act. 

Chandler’s eyes were watery. His lips were shaking. His shoulders tensioned. He looked like a hurt puppy, like a big and kicked puppy. Joey had never seen something more beautiful. 

But he couldn’t answer. His throat was sore and dry, his tongue felt heavy and cemented. He just nodded. 

“You were hurting all this time? And you didn’t tell me anything,” Chandler sounded so very hurt and honest and wounded. 

Joey had imagined every possible outcome of such a situation. He imagined that Chandler yelled at him, ignored him, rejected him, neglected him as a friend and roommate. He had expected that his best friend wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore, that he would be grossed out and disgusted. 

Not that he saw Chandler in such a light. Not that he really thought that Chandler was a homophobic bigot, that he could ever be this cold and hard to him. Or to anybody, really. But he had been so scared of his reaction. Since the day he realized that he not only found Chandler attractive, but that he found him impossibly sexy and cute and handsome. 

But he knew how Chandler stood to his father. How Chandler hated his father because he had left them, that he was gay – a fag, how Chandler often remarked –, that he was in a gay burlesque. And Joey didn’t want to remind Chandler of his father. That was actually the very last thing he wanted.

He would’ve preferred to oppress his feelings, overplay them with jokes and grins, just to not remind Chandler of his father. 

But now he did, didn’t he.

“It hasn’t been that bad,” Joey shrugged, stared at the ground, at the walls, at their furniture, just didn’t want to look at his best friend. 

It had been _worse_ than bad. But Chandler didn’t need to know. 

“Joe, I –“

“No, Chandler, it’s okay, I have those feelings, you don’t. That’s okay, that’s life, isn’t it?” And now Joey really _did_ run. Rushing out of the apartment, making a great effort not to touch Chandler in any way in his storming, shut the door. 

He didn’t stop running – okay, maybe more of a fast walking – until he didn’t recognise the blocks around him anymore. And then he went further into the night, further and further. 

xx

Joey was so obviously trying not to be obvious, he often wondered why Chandler never noticed anything before.

Yeah. Why had Chandler never noticed something in the past years?

Joey hadn’t dared to hint something at him or his friends. Or anyone, really. But he liked to be near Chandler, he always touched him and hugged him and even kissed him one time. He liked to spend his time with him, talked to him about anything, could never be too close to him. 

And Chandler never noticed. 

Now, was Chandler that oblivious? Or did he _try_ to be oblivious? Just to avoid the topic?

Perhaps it was good that he knew it now. Or not. 

How should Joey _know?_

He never was a person who knew much. He was a bit slow sometimes and didn’t always understand some jokes, didn’t always understood the principle of sarcasm and irony, and yes, he really wasn’t intelligent. But now he _wanted_ to know. 

He wanted to know about Chandler’s opinion and his feelings. He didn’t want to hide anymore. He didn’t want to carry this secret anymore. Well. He didn’t _need_ to carry it anymore. It wasn’t a secret anymore. But even though it wasn’t, there were more questions than before. 

Joey wanted to know. Maybe he wanted to know something for the first time in his life. 

So, he stormed back. With the same aggressiveness and sadness and depression. But with more determination. 

(Okay, he wasn’t that determined as he wanted to be. So he made some shortcuts, bought some cheap liquor in a small and shabby shop, downed it, and then he was brave enough to walk on.)

xx

When Joey sneaked into the apartment a few hours later, drunk and ashamed, he was surprised to find Chandler on the countertop, smoking.

“Joey! Where have you been? I called you a thousand times, I texted you, why didn’t you answer?” Chandler seemed worried and angry at the same time. Somehow, it didn’t make Joey feel happy that his best friend was so upset and worried about him. It hurt. 

“Why? Do we have a serious commitment here? Do I have to inform you every time when I’m going out,” he slurred, tried to walk across the room. But the world was spinning around him, he couldn’t see properly, his legs were shaking. 

“When you drop such a bomb on me…” but Chandler didn’t make his joke, didn’t say anything anymore. He rushed up to Joey, tried to support him.

“I never directly dropped a bomb on you, actually,” Joey tried to walk by himself, tried and failed. He staggered and fell on his ass. Fortunately, he was piss drunk and didn’t feel any pain, the tomorrow-Joey would be pleased. “You just assumed.”

“Did I assume correctly?” Chandler whispered, kneeling in front of him.

Joey nodded. His cheeks were wet. 

“Now look at you. Joey Tribbiani, ladies’ man,” Chandler laughed slightly. It sounded like the first laugh of a child, honest and confused and without a reason. 

“But not a men’s man, hm,” he sighed, burying his face in his hands, wiping away those pathetic tears.

And now Chandler was laughing. Loudly and honest and sincere and so fucking _loudly_ that Joey couldn’t even concentrate on being a devasted crying fuck.

Chandler must’ve noticed, he stopped, still grinning all over his stupid beautiful face. 

“Thank you for your comfort, I guess I’ll just go to sleep for… a few years,” Joey declared, tried to stand up, but Chandler laid his hands on his shoulders and pushed him down again.

“No, no, no, you don’t _understand_ ,” Chandler seemed to find this situation incredible funny, he couldn’t keep the laughter inside him, “It’s just so ridiculously _hilarious_.”

“Wow, way to cheer a man up.”

“Sorry. What I meant is: I never thought that Joey Tribbiani, professional womanizer, would end up sitting in front of me, crying, stating his love for Chandler Bing, professional cripple in all aspects of love and relationships.” Chandler didn’t moved his hands away from Joey’s shoulders. He even began to creep them up Joey’s neck, caressed the curve of his jaw. “I’ve been in love with you for _years_. Since you moved in, actually. But you had all these girls over, I listened to you having sex _all the fucking time_. I never thought you would ever feel something more than just friendship. And I can’t stop laughing ‘cause I’m so fucking _happy_.”

Joey didn’t believe him. 

He just couldn’t grab the words of his best friend, kneeling in front of him, holding his face in both hands. He just _couldn’t_. Chandler, who hated his dad for being gay and a drag queen, who hated all the discussions whether he was gay or not, who hated that people saw a certain _quality_ in him, this guy should be in love with him too?

Impossible. Joey didn’t deserve being this lucky. He didn’t. 

But then Chandler moved closer, not too close, not without consent. Not without knowing that Joey would want it too. Had there ever been a better guy than Chandler Bing?

Joey crushed their mouths together. Hard and wanting. All these years of hiding and oppressing, these years of being afraid and scared to lose his best friend made him press their lips together, pulling him closer, and closer and _closer_.

And Chandler – Joey couldn’t believe it – didn’t push him away. Didn’t yell at him, didn’t hit him. He even kissed him back.

Joey was sure by then that he must be dreaming. That he must be so drunk that he was in some sort of delirium. 

But it was _real_. 

Chandler’s hands in his hair, his lips on his lips, his tongue in his mouth, this was so real. 

And Joey had never been happier in his life. 

He buried his hands in Chandler’s hair, pulled them, scratched his neck and his shoulders, touched everything he could reach. Took everything he’d get. 

Joey started to lean back, pulled Chandler along, until they both lay on the hard and cold floor that didn’t seem so hard and cold anymore. They lay half on top of each other, half beside each other. Chandler had his hands now on Joey’s hip, slid his hand under Joey’s shirt, caressed his sides and his chest, making Joey let out little noises of appreciation. 

Meanwhile, Joey didn’t miss the opportunity to sneak his hand down Chandler’s back to his ass, this wonderful ass he always longed to touch, and grabbed it, pulled Chandler even closer to him. 

But then Chandler backed away. 

“Joey, sorry, I can’t… we can’t–“ he stuttered, looking away. His cheeks and his neck were flushed, little drops of sweat on his forehead and his adam’s apple. Joey wanted to lick them away but Chandler seemed to be nervous and insecure and he didn’t want to push him.

“Yeah, sure, how could I’ve thought you would wanna do this…” Joey sat up, pushed Chandler and himself in a upright position, ran his hands through his own hair. Tears were creeping up behind his eyes again. His own body was a fucking traitor. 

“No! No, no, don’t misunderstand this again. I _want_ to do this. But it was really hard for me to accept my feelings, To accept… that I’m just like my dad.”

“You’re not your dad. Are you a drag queen? Do you wear women’s clothes?”

“I have worn panties, you know that.”

“And I could’ve eaten you right there, in the rest room,” Joey sighed, “but if it helps; I’ve also worn panties for a while.” Chandler looked at him in awe and in shock. “But… that’s another story. Point is that you’re nothing like your father. You never cheated on someone, you don’t participate in a gay burlesque in Las Vegas, and you’ve never abandoned your son.”

“I don’t have a son, Joey.”

“See! And therefore you’ve never neglected him!” Joey moved closer to Chandler once more, looked him in the eyes, not caring whether he was maybe crying again or not. “I love you. And I wouldn’t love you if you were a bad guy, y’know.”

“Joey…”

“Okay, I would love you anyways. But I would never push you, I would never force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? And if you’re not ready for more than kissing, or cuddling, or whatever, then that’s it. We can take it slow,” Joey never believed in god. But know he was praying that some god, whichever might be listening to him right know, that Chandler would see the sincerity in his eyes and voice and wouldn’t reject him. 

“Now I know why I fell in love with you, even though I’ve always fought against being gay,” Chanlder sighed, leaned forward and placed a little kiss on Joey’s forehead. 

Joey couldn’t help but grin. And fall forward to hug his best friend, maybe even his to-be-boyfriend. 

“You won’t regret it!”


End file.
